


A Born Coward

by azureheavens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Based on a Vocaloid Song, Character Death, Crimson Flower Route, Denial of Feelings, Drama & Romance, F/M, OR IS IT, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureheavens/pseuds/azureheavens
Summary: Today's weather is a clear sunny sky with a downpourYesterday I was making the best use of my time being idle and freeIt's not like I'm thinking about you or anythingFine, maybe I was thinking about you a little against my will…
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	A Born Coward

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a big Vocaloid fan, BUT I do love Bandori and pretty much every song Afterglow covers. That’s how I discovered this banger and as I read the lyrics it made me think of Hilda… 
> 
> I started this fic soon after, and when I finally cleared Ch 14 in CF I wanted to finish it. I'll link the song in my endnotes.

The skies over Derdriu were a brilliant blue. The oceanside city was no stranger to views that captivated all, with lapping waves, salty air, the humming bustle of its citizens. Now the streets were deserted. Those who didn’t evacuate before Claude ordered the gates closed hid away in their homes. Alliance soldiers dotted the port, perfectly placed figures of steel and flesh. The last guardians of the Leicester Alliance, with Hilda right at its center.

Holst had often asked Hilda to lend her strength in the war, but never _this_ close to the front lines. When word came that the Empire had plowed through the Bridge of Myrddin, she knew Derdriu would be next. Tension knotted in her chest ever since Holst sent her over, fashionably late as Edelgard’s forces would march in within the day by land, closing off any real way of escape.

The glint of gold off his pauldron guided her to him. Claude faced the other way, intent on his conversation with a large, shaggy man covered in scars. When the man left, Hilda approached Claude with levity in her step. “Long time no see, Mr. Leader Man.”

Claude turned. He was frowning in that split second before he met her eyes, tense and focused. When his gaze settled on her, she saw what she remembered: curling lips, vibrant green eyes. “Ah, so you’ve made it after all.” He had looked so strange without a smile, but now he pulled one on just for her.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t come?”

“I knew you would. Most likely after the fighting started.”

“Ouch, you know I’m not _that_ lazy.”

His eyes crinkled a bit, the first crack of sincerity in his veneer. “I know you’re not.”

He quickly filled her in on his strategy, ushering her away to prepare. Hilda had never seen Claude so on edge, but it made sense. Judith, Ignatz, Leonie were gone… Lysithea and Lorenz joined the Empire long ago, Marianne disappeared after Garreg Mach fell, and Raphael was sent home to take care of his sister. Claude was running out of friends to rely on. That left only Hilda.

Not that she had been much of a friend.

Once the Empire fell on the monastery, the dust of the battle settling on the ruined stone, Hilda and Claude went their separate ways. She spent the next five years doing everything she could to ignore the war: tinkering with pendants, bloodying her axe on border bandits. All she had of Claude were the stories Holst would tell of the roundtable conferences. Besides that, she had barely thought about him.

…Actually, she thought about him a lot.

Always when she tried not to.

They were inseparable once. Him getting into trouble and her finding ways to get out of it. A glance his way brought the same sight: a smile on his face, vigilance in his eyes, a question on his tongue. He told weird stories and thought too much and was so, _so_ fun to be around. But his every comment about wanting to see her work for something dug deeper under her skin.

Claude was always looking ahead, searching beyond the horizon to some out of sight goal. Hilda never wanted a life like that. She wanted lazy days, warm nights, subtle jokes. He was always moving, while she was happy standing still.

He never said it outright, but Hilda was sure he had started to think of her in a different way… Needling compliments, thoughts of the future in his eyes. Drop by drop, his expectations spilled out of her hands, wasted on her.

It was best as it was. Just friends. If he didn’t care in the end, then she wouldn’t either.

But seeing him again, five years later, showed how big of a gap grew between them.

She caught him staring, then turning away as soon as she looked. There was tightness in his smile, the humor gone from his eyes. She couldn’t tell how he felt, if he felt anything at all, and she couldn’t place her feelings either.

What was wrong with waiting it out a little more…?

* * *

The skies over Derdriu were a brilliant blue, the kind that she would find Claude napping under a tree at the monastery. Now, a cloud of smoke billowed from the building to her left, heat singeing the air. Metal clanged, destriers reared, soldiers cried out in equal parts triumph and agony.

Half of her Valkyries abandoned Hilda when the emperor launched a barrel of flames on them, pushing her back toward the bridge leading to Claude. How he got a fleet of Almyrans to cover the open waters was a question she would have to save for later. Always cagey about his schemes…

Hilda stood firm, dazed from the shouts and the ringing in her ears. She would _not_ die here. She would run if she had to. Claude would have planned for an escape, which meant she could-

A wyvern’s cry pierced the air, followed by a man’s. Hilda’s eyes snapped to behind her. Ethereal green hair fluttered in the air as the professor flew her pegasus over the plummeting Almyran general. Misplaced relief flooded Hilda’s chest, seeing dark brown hide instead of white crash onto a ship’s deck.

Gold glinted in the distance. Claude pulled back his alabaster wyvern and called the order. His Immortal Corps launched a deadly barrage of arrows, but the professor twisted and darted out of range. Archers on the docks fired at the mages closing in, while imperial assassins closed the gap with glinting blades.

Hilda’s blood ran cold. The _emperor_ was the distraction. The real assault cut through the Almyran ships, directly toward Claude. Whatever defense he prepared wasn’t enough, making all of Hilda’s effort here useless…

The endless space between them felt larger than ever.

Heart pounding, Hilda charged up the docks.

Hoofbeats behind her pounded up the cobblestones. Black armor flashed. Pain seared through her side, making her sputter and gasp. She tumbled and collapsed on her back, staring up into the blue. Freikugel was still locked in her grip. Her hand didn’t realize she was down.

Breath rattled in her lungs, sweat-drenched hair clung to her face. Some of her squad fought on around her, oblivious. Others saw their general collapse and sprinted away onto awaiting Imperial blades. Her mind fogged. Shock muddled the battle cries around her. She saw only the sky above.

Endless, cloudless blue. Vermilion sun warming her blanching skin. Slowly, flecks of darkness spotted her vision, broken by-

Gold.

_“Hilda!”_

Golden, glinting light. A powerful silhouette blocked the sun’s rays above. Beating wings threw out gusts, ruffling the dust, her hair, her clothes. Muted battle cries hummed in her ears before she realized they rallied around _her_. Hilda strained to lift her neck, fighting the pull to shut her eyes.

Claude barreled into a mass of soldiers, knocking them back. He twisted in his saddle, whipping them with his mount’s iron scaled tail as he leaped and rolled onto the ground. Reinforcements swarmed on both sides. Star laden arrows lodged themselves into the gaps of crimson armor. Fangs bared and wings aloft, the wyvern raged in its master’s place while Claude dashed to her side. A hand under her neck, another checking her wounds, his rattled breath heating her face.

Hilda’s head rolled as she gaped up at him. So that’s what it was like for him to hold her. So delicate, as if her petals would shrink away from his touch.

His green eyes flew from her wounds to the battlefield, calling out orders as if he still watched from above. His eyes were hard, panicked, as carefully laid plans crumbled to pieces before them.

A frown looked wrong on him. Hilda raised her bloodied glove to fix it. Claude’s gaze snapped to hers as her fingers grazed his cheek.

She showed him how he _should_ smile, her mouth pulling her tired face. Only now did she realize she missed seeing it. He took the hint and copied her, pressing her hand to his cheek. His smile was tight. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“Why didn’t you retreat?” he asked in his warm voice. As if a battle didn’t rage around them, huddled on the sun-bleached port. “I counted on you retreating…”

…Why didn’t she?

Why did she even come to Derdriu, knowing the empire would be coming too? Smart as Claude was, he never gave in once he started something. That meant others would pile up their corpses in pursuit of his victory, thinking it would mean their own. Hilda was smarter than that, or so she thought. She never wanted victory. What did she want…?

A single shadow fell over them, the Sword of the Creator pulsing in their old professor’s hand. Blood loss hollowed Hilda’s emotions, but realization filled her mind, clear as the blue sky above.

The five-year gap between them could never be filled, not anymore. She couldn’t carry everything she wanted to feel for him, all her pent up love, in her small, insufficient hands. His ambitions scared her. Scared of the work and the effort a life by his side would put on her. Scared she would never be enough.

Claude’s eyes would gaze farther than Hilda’s ever dared. Now he looked at her, straight through her. Did he see what really she was?

Too terrified to hide away at home, lounging in blood-red silk. Too desperate to abandon him yet too afraid to admit a single honest word. There was no one else for her. But she could not be the one for him. She was…

A born coward.

“It’s been fun… Claude…” Her hand dropped from his face, falling gracelessly to her chest. “Sorry to go so soon…”

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-zPY0vrpjQ


End file.
